


Inclusion

by snowshroom



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alpha Azumane Asahi, Alpha Kageyama Tobio, Alpha Sawamura Daichi, Alpha Tsukishima Kei, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Discussion of Abortion, Forced Bonding, Forced Pregnancy, Gang Rape, M/M, Muteness, Non-Consensual Oral Sex, Omega Hinata Shouyou, Omega Nishinoya Yuu, Omega Sugawara Koushi, Omega Yamaguchi Tadashi, Rape Aftermath, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-04-07
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:08:05
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,147
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23526643
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snowshroom/pseuds/snowshroom
Summary: A crime syndicate seeks its revenge against Officer Sawamura by impregnating his omega boyfriend, Sugawara Koushi. Noya and Hinata are collateral damage. In the aftermath of the unspeakable attack, the Karasuno pack struggles to hold itself together.
Relationships: Azumane Asahi/Nishinoya Yuu, Hinata Shouyou/Kageyama Tobio, Sawamura Daichi/Sugawara Koushi, Tsukishima Kei/Yamaguchi Tadashi
Comments: 86
Kudos: 382





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hi! First dip into a/b/o here, and I'm bullshitting my way through some things, amending some, and omitting others. Hope the hodgepodge ends up working for you. Please leave kudos or comments if you want to. I would really appreciate them.

Suga's new engagement ring is a platinum moonstone band with an enormous three-carat diamond in the center, big and bright and gorgeous enough that he knows it must cost significantly more than Daichi's goddamn squad car. He feels a trembly wave of pride and nerves as Noya and Hinata ooh and aah over it: he and Daichi are getting married in three short months, and he has never been happier—or more terrified.

"I just keep thinking he's going to realize he made a mistake with me," he says. "We've never dated anyone but each other, you know? And he's incredible. He works so hard, he's generous and smart and _beautiful_ , he—"

"—deserves you," says Noya firmly. "And you deserve him. You're a fucking perfect couple, Suga-san. You have been since high school."

"You're an inspiration," Hinata adds, with such sincerity and ruefulness that Suga can't stop himself from reaching out to ruffle his hair. Hinata and Kageyama have been having some difficulties lately, sniping at each other as they struggle with new relationship hiccups and work-related stress, but Suga knows that they're going to make it through this. Like Noya and Asahi—and Yamaguchi and Tsukishima—Suga is sure that they're all where they're supposed to be right now: with each other.

Maybe that goes for him and Daichi, too.

"Things will work out," Suga says. He squeezes Hinata's hand, cups Noya's cheek with his other palm. He lets rich, comforting pheromones wash over them, and they respond in kind: Hinata's beachy, sunlit scent; Noya's sweet cinnamon. Suga loves the way they smell together. "Once a pack, always a pack."

"Karasunooo, fight!" Noya cheers in his best Daichi impression, and they all laugh. "See you later this week, Suga-san."

"Bye," says Hinata, stretching onto his tiptoes to kiss the corner of Suga's mouth.

"Bye, Nishinoya. Bye, Hinata."

They leave on a wave of hope and good humor, and Suga watches them skip down the steps before shutting his apartment door behind them.

Alone, Suga grins, spreading his fingers so he can admire his ring again. Daichi gave it to him last Monday at his favorite cafe, forgoing a dramatic, down-on-one-knee proposal in favor of quietly sliding the small wooden box across the table after dessert. Suga thought it was a casual gift of cufflinks or something at first. The engagement ring blindsided him. He'd begun to cry.

 _Shh_ , Daichi had soothed him, dabbing at his face with a clean napkin. _Shh, Suga, you can say no. It won't change how I treat you._

 _Why me, though?_ Suga asked. _What have I done to be worthy of you?_

Daichi laughed. _That doesn't sound at all like the brilliant, confident boy I fell in love with in my first year. Suga, I would be honored if you'd have me. God knows you could do a whole lot better. But if you'll give me a chance, I promise to do anything within my power to make you the happiest man alive._

Suga isn't much for public displays of affection—they call too much attention to a fertile omega; vulnerable in his lack of marriage—but he'd kissed Daichi then, right there at their favorite table in the corner, and Daichi brushed away his tears with his thumbs before taking Suga's hand in his own and dressing his ring finger with the magnificent diamond. _Nowhere near as rare and beautiful as you are_ , he'd said, and Suga doesn't know about that, but he'd laughed against Daichi's mouth as the two of them touched foreheads for the first time as fiances.

Recalling this now, Suga's lips curve into a soft smile. He is so in love. He has always been a positive person, but he hadn't known it was possible to be this happy.

He's just gathering the empty teacups from the dining table when he hears Hinata's panicked, unmistakable voice.

"Sugawara-san, _run!"_

That's not an option. Not only because Suga can't react quickly enough. Not only because there's nowhere to go—he's on the fourth story, and the windows in the bedroom don't open all the way. No, Suga can't run because his limbs turn to ice, and his pulse quickens to a flutter.

And because his legs, heart, and instincts all carry him directly to Hinata.

Someone kicks open the door as he reaches for it, knocking him backwards onto the carpet, shoulder singing with fresh pain. Before he can even sit up all the way, Hinata is thrown at him. Suga catches him reflexively, gathering him into his arms as he shakes and scrambles against Suga, frightened. "Hinata, what—" he begins—and that's when they push their way into his apartment: four huge men, one of them with an elbow closed around Noya's throat, reining him in as he kicks and gasps.

"Three for the price of one," says the broadest man, sounding as if he can't believe his good fortune. He closes the door calmly behind him and toes off his shoes, arranging them neatly on the mat. His eyes meet Suga's, and he smiles. "You're even more beautiful in person," he says.

"Who the hell are you and what do you want?" Suga demands.

"I'm Hidaka. It's lovely to meet you and your little pups, mother."

Teasing. Testing. Suga narrows his eyes and pushes Hinata behind him as he stands up, trying to hide the tremble that runs through him when he realizes just how much _bigger_ Hidaka is. "Please let go of Nishinoya," he says.

The man holding Noya actually tightens the headlock, making Noya choke. "I don't know," he says, voice deep and sonorous. "This little bitch said a few words to me outside that I didn't appreciate. Think maybe it's time someone taught him how to use his mouth properly."

It paints the situation with a layer of sexual danger that makes Suga grow still, terrified. _This is going to happen_ , he thinks, with preternatural calm. _Okay. Okay. Have to protect them. Have to get them out of here._ He grips Hinata's arm and begins shuffling him toward the door, doing his best to radiate composure.

Hidaka places one hand on the door, casually preventing him from opening it. It's off one hinge now, gaping maybe half an inch. Suga eyes that space. He doesn't know who is home in his building, but surely _someone_ would hear him if he—

One of the other men reaches out and plucks Hinata close by a handful of his orange hair. Hinata, for his part, yelps in pain, but quiets quickly, eyes squeezed shut so hard that his lashes tremble. The man studies him appreciatively. Hinata's only grown more beautiful since high school, his body athletic and lithe, and the man seems not to be able to stop himself from running an exploratory hand down Hinata's chest. Alpha pheromones stain the air like a sickness. The smell is overpowering, heady and musky and full of dark, sweaty notes. Suga strives to fight it with his own scent, but they're drowning it out.

"Okazaki Tatsuo sends his regards," says Hidaka, smiling gently.

Suga is shaking. It takes everything he has to maintain eye contact. "I don't know who that is."

"Ask your cop boyfriend," says the bastard holding Noya. He's wearing a belt buckle with a wolf's head on it, shiny and distinct. "Sent him behind bars for life last week. Do you think it was worth it, taking down the head of a whole crime syndicate just for a little glory? You think Officer Sawamura got promoted for it?"

"He doesn't talk to me about his work," says Suga.

"Maybe he should've. Maybe then you would've known this was coming."

Noya tries to jerk free, and the man lets him this time. He collapses to his knees, gasping for breath. "Suga-san," he says, voice strangled. He tries to stand up, Wolf pushes him back down, laughing. His fingernails dig into Noya's shoulder.

With his free hand, he reaches for the zipper of his own trousers.

"No," Suga pleads. He staggers forward. "No, please! They have nothing to do with this!"

"Neither do you," points out Hidaka, smirking. "Just a pretty little omega who happened to be dating the wrong policeman at the wrong time. But you're going to spread your whore legs for us, and so are they. Going to have a nice party here. Right, Otani?"

"Yes, boss," says Otani, the fourth, silent man standing just inside the apartment.

Hidaka's voice goes cold. "Help yourselves, boys."

"Yes, boss."

Otani advances on Suga, and Suga fumbles behind himself for a weapon, a lamp or a book or _anything_ , but the room is spartan—the way Daichi likes it when he comes home, tired, head buzzing with the noise of whatever he's working on at the precinct. Suga loves to tug him into the shower, to lave him in kisses and soap. Wash the difficult days right off of him. He had no idea Daichi was working on such a tremendous case. Suga is _proud_ of him.

Even as Otani reaches him and backhands him so hard that he's knocked off his feet.

He loses some time. The most precious of time, the most crucial and most dangerous. His vision grows dark, then white. When he opens his eyes again, the man on Hinata is shoving him onto the ground beside Suga, and Noya is being choked on Wolf's enormous cock.

"Suck it, sweetheart," Wolf purrs, fucking Noya's mouth in rough, languid strokes. "Take it down your throat; I know you know how to. I smell your man on you. He got a big dick like me? I'd have you three times a day, if you were mine. Good baby. Good."

Noya makes an angry noise, but Wolf's got both hands braced on the back of his head, forcing himself between his swollen lips. Furious, humiliated tears slip down his cheeks. He clenches his eyes shut.

Suga struggles to sit up, but Otani hits him so hard that his eyes water. He pins Suga so _easily_ , dragging his pants off, grasping at handfuls of his ass as he dips into his underwear and strokes his fingers between Suga's buttocks. Suga is not wet. He has never been less aroused, and it's worse with Hinata shaking and sobbing beside him, groping desperately for Suga's hand as the man on top of him rips his shirt open and lowers his mouth to one of his nipples. Suga seizes Hinata's fingers and grips them tightly.

Hinata's a virgin. He and Kageyama just haven't gotten there yet; Suga knows this from the counsel Hinata has sought from him, trying to figure out how best to express his desire. Kageyama is an unusual alpha, not neglectful, but nervous and distracted. Suga always figured that he and Hinata would mate for life, if they could just work out their courting uncertainties.

The man sucks at Hinata's nipples and throat, tongue lapping at his overtaxed scent glands. He bites tenderly, and Hinata cries out.

"Please don't mark me! Please, please—"

"Shh," the man soothes, then sinks his teeth gently into the soft, clean skin. He makes loud, wet noises as he sucks a bruise into Hinata's throat. Hinata squirms, weeping, terrified.

"I'll do anything if you let them go," Suga hears himself plead. "I'll do anything!"

"Yes, you will," says Hidaka. He raises his phone, frames Suga on its screen. "Smile."

Suga tries to turn his head, but Otani yanks him back, forcing his legs apart. Spreading him open. The camera flashes. Humiliation and nausea swell in Suga's stomach, but he doesn't say anything else. _I will not cry. I will not cry_ —

"Fuck off," Noya curses, voice thick and wet as the Wolf pulls his cock out of his mouth. "Fucking pencil-dick. Gotta force people half your size because you can't get any willing, huh, you piece of shit?"

"Who the fuck taught you to talk? Your alpha lets you get away with that kind of language?" Wolf demands. He kneels to grip Noya's hair in one hand and jams the other down the back of his pants. Suga knows exactly the moment that he penetrates him, because Noya cries out, sharp and scared. Wolf drags him onto the ground, rutting at him eagerly as he fingers him loose. "God, you're such a small, pretty thing. Come on, get wet. Let me make it good for you."

Hinata gasps beside Suga. It's a different sound, breathy and startled and shamefully aroused. The man on top of him is stroking him to hardness. Hinata's bright, virginal scent permeates the room. Tears pour down his cheeks.

Otani nudges at Suga's entrance with his hard, dripping cock.

"No," Suga begs. "I'm not ready—"

He pushes in. No warning, no slick. It's like being torn apart from the inside. Suga writhes, swallowing back a cry, socked feet digging furiously into the carpet. _Daichi_ , he thinks. _Daichi, I'm so sorry, I wanted it to be you, only you_ —

Otani begins fucking Suga in deep, practiced strokes. He's pushing hard every time he thrusts inside, holding his hips there for longer than necessary, gripping Suga's hips and yanking him down to meet the swollen base of his cock, his heavy balls. He's only been at Suga for half a minute when Suga realizes what's happening.

_He's trying to get me pregnant._

Renewed panic grips Suga. He starts thrashing, struggling to shove Otani off of him without letting go of Hinata's hand. Hidaka grins when he sees that Suga has caught on. He takes more pictures. Suga shies away, kicking and bucking, the first sobs wrenching their way out of him with clear, knife-edge pain.

And Otani won't let up. He fucks into Suga harder and slower, lingering inside him, making sure their bodies are flush before pulling back to thrust in again. He grinds into him. He shuffles to hold Suga's thighs further apart. The rape is mechanical and industrious—he makes no attempts to kiss Suga, or to pleasure him. Just in and out. Suga begins producing slick. That helps a little physically, but it does nothing to ease his emotional distress; he's getting more and more scared as Otani plunges into him, starting to gasp now, his heavy alpha smell filling every crevice of Suga's unwilling body.

"Please," Suga moans. "Please, not inside!"

Otani comes in him. Suga feels each hot spurt, and Otani holds there until he's done spasming. Suga lies back and stares at the ceiling with wide, damp eyes. _Daichi. Please forgive me. Forgive me for letting him make me dirty._

A second later, Hinata cries out. The man on top of him milks him through his pants, which darken with come and slick. Hinata actually lets go of Suga to hold onto the man, tethering himself there, biology taking over as he struggles through his first shared orgasm. He's shaking and crying. He can't seem to release the man who marked him, mentally repulsed but hormonally bonded, his small body racked with pleasure.

The moment was supposed to be Hinata and Kageyama's. Suga feels energized with sudden fury. He begins to sit up, but Otani strikes him down again. His head hits the ground hard. More time floats away.

When he comes to, Wolf is pounding into him.

_No. No._

Otani's got Hinata now, holding him upright, forcing him to watch. There are no words for the humiliation Suga feels, but relief washes over him with the realization that Otani's spent: he can't fuck Hinata.

Noya, though. The man who marked Hinata is forcing himself into Noya's overused mouth now, fucking it eagerly. Noya is still spitting and cursing, but he's losing energy, eyelids drooping. Not broken yet. But cracking badly. He sags when the man releases him to readjust. "Piece of shit," he says, voice hoarse. "I'll kill you for what you did to Shouyou. I'll fucking—"

His words drop off again as the man shoves himself back down his throat. "Such a mouthy thing," he observes gently. "You really think your alpha wants to hear so much from you? Just quiet down and be the lovely little hole you were meant to be."

Noya doesn't respond this time. Suga wants to beg him to keep fighting, but Wolf is fucking the words right out of him, thrusting in the same, intent way as Otani did. Suga should be grateful they're not knotting him, even though his body is waking up now, starting to want it: he and Daichi couple frequently and hungrily, but it's more a product of love than it is lust. Suga's libido is only high because Daichi is so beautiful and kind and courageous; Suga wants him with a constant, bright longing.

There's nothing of Daichi in Wolf. This bastard is inconsiderate and fast and celebratory. When he comes, he holds onto Suga's waist and drags him down onto his cock until he is finished spilling inside him. He pants excitedly against Suga's neck.

"There you go, bitch," Wolf says, leering. "Hope it was good for you, too."

Suga doesn't even look at him. For the third time that day, he tries to sit up.

When the man on Noya releases him and takes his place between Suga's legs, gently pushing him back down, Suga begins to shake with tears.

"Don't worry, darling, I'm the last," the man soothes.

He enters Suga with precision. His dick is thin but long, and it reaches a depth inside Suga that frightens him. He's different: he makes Suga look at him, hand under his chin, before he starts to fuck him.

"Yes," he whispers. "Yes, I'm going to fill you up. Give you my pups. Going to make you pregnant, Sugawara."

Hearing his name in this stranger's voice chills him. He hates that he's crying in front of Hinata, who is in Wolf's lap; hates that he can't see Noya, who's entertaining Otani now, if the sounds are any indication. Choking and sputtering on his third cock of the evening. None of them are going to be the same after this. And it's not fucking fair, that Noya and Hinata were even here. It's Suga's fault. He was the one who invited them over to see his new ring—a ring that these rapists have no interest in, because all they want is to hurt Daichi. To fill Suga with their babies.

 _Thank god Yamaguchi was sick today,_ Suga thinks, in the dim, human part of him that can still feel gratitude.

The man moans as he fucks Suga. It's almost lovemaking in its tenderness, its lethargy. And Suga tries something new and stares right at him, memorizing him, readying himself to pick this bastard out of a police lineup. He's not going to get away with this. Even though he already kind of has. Even though he's probably impregnating Suga right now, bestowing upon him a lifetime of aftermath.

By the time he comes, crushing his hips against Suga's ass as he erupts inside him, Suga has gone completely numb.

"You were amazing, Sugawara-san," says Hidaka, smiling as he lowers his phone. "Officer Sawamura and the Miyagi Prefecture Police Force are going to love these videos."

"Don't!" Hinata begs, because Suga doesn't. "Please!"

"Sent." Hidaka tucks his phone back into his pocket. "We better get out of here quick, but you boys have been wonderful company. Thank you."

It's the perfect time for a parting shot, especially from Noya, but no one speaks. Suga clasps his hands to his abdomen, where he feels full and warm and filthy, and Hinata sobs once into the silence, fingertips touching the purpling mark on his neck. The men leave without ceremony. Wolf winks at Suga as he passes, pulling the door shut behind him. That one hinge is still broken. Suga can see their shadows as they stand on the landing, talking and laughing about something, then walk down the stairs without haste. A moment later, he hears the purr of a car's engine as it disappears down the street.

For a long, long time, everyone is quiet.

Then Noya stands and retches into the sink, and Suga sits up with new urgency.

First he helps Hinata onto the sofa. Hinata's moving slow and shocked, and the mark on his throat is ridged with teeth imprints. Suga fetches him a glass of water. Then, when Hinata is sitting upright by himself and sipping, Suga goes into his bathroom, turns the water on as hot as it will go, and aims the detachable showerhead between his legs.

_Out. Please, out._

Suga fingers his loose, burning hole, trying to clean himself.

_Out. Get it all out, please. Please._

The evidence of the men slides free down his thighs. Sweat and come and slick. 

Said in Hidaka's unmistakable voice: _It's too late_.

It is. He knows it instinctively, the way he knew where to set a volleyball, the way he knows when Daichi is going to come home tired and in need of a warm, freshly prepared meal. It _is_ too late. Suga is pregnant, and Daichi will find him like this, raped and disgusting and weeping in the shower. He's going to leave him. He's never going to want to touch Suga again. He—

—rips back the shower curtain, gasping, and pulls Suga into his strong, quaking arms.

"Suga," Daichi sobs. "Suga, my god. What did they do to you?"

In the living room, Suga hears voices. Policemen and Hinata and, above that in a dark, furious bellow, Asahi. Beyond that, there are sirens. The whole force in Miyagi must be here now. But all Suga knows is the warmth of Daichi's embrace, his woodsy scent, and, strangely, the heaviness of the engagement ring on his finger as he allows himself to close his eyes against the steam and a soft, cathartic sting of tears.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for the warm welcome! Please enjoy this update!

Yamaguchi is riding Tsukishima with a practiced, heat-driven desperation when Tsukki's default ringtone goes off. "Hold on," Tsukki grunts, wrapping one arm around Yamaguchi's waist and rolling them over. He puts the phone to his ear. "Hello?"

"You can't be serious," Yamaguchi pants, squirming angrily beneath him.

"It's Daichi," says Tsukki under his breath. "Calling from his work phone."

Yamaguchi stills. The last time Daichi contacted them this way was to tell them about Asahi's car accident. He reaches for one of the towels on his nightstand, dabbing his face clean as Tsukki listens to whatever Daichi is saying. Yamaguchi can just make out the strange, fast pitch of his voice.

"Please slow down," says Tsukki, strained and breathless. "They _what?"_

He pulls out of Yamaguchi and swings his legs over the side of the bed so he can sit up. Yamaguchi pushes through the mess of their sheets and touches Tsukki's shoulder. Instead of brushing him away, like he sometimes does when he's distracted, Tsukki places his free hand on his and squeezes so hard that it aches. Yamaguchi studies the beautiful, lithe line of his spine as it stiffens. After a long moment, Tsukki begins nodding to himself. He pats around the mattress for his trousers. When Yamaguchi realizes that he's quivering, he clambers upright himself.

"Tsukki?"

"Try to breathe, Daichi-san," says Tsukki, his voice blessedly steady. "We'll be there shortly." He hangs up and stands, goes to pull on his shirt, then curses. "Come on, we need to shower quickly," he tells Yamaguchi, urging him to his feet. "Are you okay to leave the house?"

"I think so," Yamaguchi says. He's finally reasonably lucid, most of his arousal from his heat sated in favor of adrenaline. The rest he can handle with suppressants. "Tsukki, what's going on?"

Tsukki seizes his face in both hands and sweeps him into a hard, sudden kiss. Yamaguchi's so surprised that he squeaks, forgets to kiss back. When Tsukki releases him, Yamaguchi sees that his eyes are damp. "Thank God," Tsukki whispers. "Thank God you weren't there today, Tadashi."

"Weren't where?"

He tugs Yamaguchi naked down the hall to their small bathroom and gets the water going in the gentle, tepid spray they both favor after they couple. He sets his glasses beside the sink and pulls Yamaguchi into the shower, setting to work washing him immediately, neck and armpits and between his slick-covered legs. Yamaguchi lets him for a moment, then stalls his hands by gripping them firmly.

"Tsukki, you need to tell me what's happening. Now."

His strong, beautiful lover curls against him, shuddering. He seems unable to meet his eyes. "There was an attack," he says at last. Same cool, unaffected tone, despite everything. Yamaguchi tries to stabilize himself on it. "At Sugawara-san's apartment."

"Like a terrorist attack?" asks Yamaguchi. He can abruptly feel his own heartbeat.

"No. They—they were from a crime ring, not yakuza proper, but active in our prefecture. Daichi-san was part of the task force that brought down its kingpin a few weeks ago. Life sentence. Tanaka and I are the only ones he really talked to about it; you know how Asahi-san gets, and Daichi-san wanted to keep Sugawara-san separate from—to not _involve_ him in—but they still managed to—"

"Tsukki, you're rambling. Please focus."

Tsukki pulls him close, pressing his nose against his throat, taking in his scent. Yamaguchi can't smell himself, but Tsukki says it's something like wildflowers and still water, the greenness of spring. He does his best to exude comfort and love as he strokes Tsukki's damp hair between his fingers. He's really shaking, god. Yamaguchi reaches behind him and cranks at the hot water tap, because he's suddenly chilled, and little goosebumps are rising all over Tsukki's skin. He nuzzles him lightly, holding his mouth right there beside his so he can feel the warmth of his breath as Tsukki says, "They assaulted them."

The pulse in Yamaguchi's ears turns into a soft whining. "Sugawara-san and—?"

"Nishinoya-san and Hinata were there, too. _You_ would've been there, Tadashi. If you had been there, I couldn't—"

"I wasn't there, Tsukki." He keeps his voice hard so it doesn't break. "Tell me what they did to them."

"They're calling Sugawara-san's an 'aggravated rape,'" Tsukki says into the safety of Yamaguchi's neck.

Yamaguchi grips Tsukki's hair. _Rape_. "'Aggravated?'"

"Because there were three assailants."

 _Sugawara-san. No._ Yamaguchi feels his legs failing him. He staggers, and Tsukki's so good; he seizes his hips and helps him down so they can kneel in the shower together, water pouring over them. Yamaguchi blinks it off his eyelashes. He thinks he's crying. He can't quite tell. He doesn't even recognize his own cracking, wobbly voice. " _Why?"_

"They wanted to get revenge on Daichi-san."

"The others were just—"

"— _there_. They just wanted to see Sugawara-san's new ring. Daichi-san says Nishinoya isn't speaking yet, and Hinata's assault wasn't penetrative, but one of the bastards bonded him. They're probably going to have to chemically erase his signature before Hinata has his next heat."

"He and Kageyama haven't even—" oh, god. "Does Kageyama know?"

"They haven't been able to contact him yet."

"Fuck," Yamaguchi whimpers.

Tsukki kisses him again. No teeth or tongue, intently, but without invasiveness. Yamaguchi grabs him when he starts to pull back and kisses him again. They hold each other for a long time, just being close. Tsukki mouths at his throat, where he marked him earlier that morning. The two of them have been together since their second year of high school, longer even than Daichi and Suga, who only admitted their feelings for one another after Daichi graduated from training. It gives them a seniority that has always required of them a certain strength and composure.

So they get it all out now. Yamaguchi spasms with furious sobs, and Tsukki nips at his neck and shoulders, shoving him back against the shower wall. They touch and rub, scent-marking each other after the water is turned off. By the time they finally stand up and towel one another dry, Yamaguchi is shaking with exertion.

"Take your suppressants," says Tsukki, passing him his pill case. "Let's get dressed."

Yamaguchi's heats have always been too strong for over-the-counter treatment, wiping him out for days at a time before he got his first prescriptions as a legal adult. Even as the idea of having sex repulses him now, his insides burn with instinctual arousal. He takes two of the small pink capsules and washes them down with tap water. He changes quickly into the clothes Tsukki brings him, smoothing a sanitary liner into his underwear to catch his remaining slick. He's just fastening his jeans when it occurs to him.

"Sugawara-san has adverse reactions to emergency birth control," he says. He feels suddenly cold again.

Tsukki stills. "He does?"

"Yeah. He took a common synthetic hormone that caused internal bleeding after he and Daichi were a little careless a year ago. He told everyone it was appendicitis because he was embarrassed, if you remember that, but he wanted to warn me of the risks when you and I had that pregnancy scare a few months ago."

"Surely there are safer forms of retroactive contraception available now," says Tsukki.

"There must be," says Yamaguchi. "Right?"

"Right."

Yamaguchi nods to himself. There's no way the world would—there's just no way. Not to Sugawara, their pack 'mother,' smart and affectionate and loyal and so incredibly _undeserving_ of the violence enacted upon him by some fucking thugs with a vendetta. Yamaguchi feels himself tearing up again and locks it down hard behind gritted teeth. He grips Tsukki's hand.

It's time to be strong. 

~

"I don't care about the risks," says Suga.

"Sugawara-san, I cannot in good conscience greenlight a regimen that hospitalized you in the past," says the doctor, her voice strained. "Take the Omegaphan. It's seventy-five percent effective within the first forty-eight hours of—"

"I'll take it, in addition to an aspiration."

"It's _months_ too early to even consider that."

"Please," Suga says, voice cracking. "They got me pregnant. I can feel it. Please don't make me wait four weeks for an ultrasound."

"My heart is breaking for you, Sugawara-san, but we've done all we can for now."

Suga wants to be a fucking adult and thank her for all that she's doing for him, but instead, he curls up into a tiny ball in his hospital bed and pulls the pillow over his head to sob. He hasn't stopped crying since he was admitted. He just can't seem to get a grip. Not to discuss his options with his doctor and nurses. Not to talk to the police.

Not to face Daichi.

Daichi's there, of course. He hasn't let go of Suga once except to help him change into a fresh hospital gown; Suga's pretty sure that their hands are bruised by now. But Suga can't look at him. He's too fucking ashamed. He never wanted anyone except for Daichi to see him intimately, and here he is now, immortalized in a hundred pictures and video clips that the entire Miyagi Prefecture Police Force have seen. Helpless. Crying. Worst of all—and this is the part he would change, if he could take back one thing that happened today—he didn't protect Nishinoya and Hinata.

How could he have been so useless? How could he have failed them so badly? They call him 'mom' sometimes, and it's only half-jest: for years, he has taken their safety upon himself as the matriarch of their pack. Guarded them whenever he can. Consulted with them about important health decisions. But when it truly mattered, he was unable to shield them from unspeakable violence.

And the worst part? No one is going to blame him.

Suga weeps into his clean sheets, still gripping Daichi's hand. He wants to disappear. He doesn't know how his life could've changed so suddenly and so dramatically. He presses his engagement ring to his lips, trying to ground himself on its solidity. Inside him, a baby is taking form, and he collapses in on himself, hoping that it'll dissolve if he can just cry hard enough.

"I'm going to have someone bring you a meal. You need to eat something," says his doctor. She's a beautiful alpha, and the consoling pheromones she releases are subconscious and rich with grief. "Officer Sawamura, would you like a tray as well?"

"No thank you," says Daichi, coarse and weak. "And just 'Sawamura,' please. I'm officially on a leave of absence."

"Certainly, Sawamura-san. I'll be right back. Oh—hello. You are—?"

"Yamaguchi Tadashi," says a familiar voice at the door. "Please, can I see him?"

"Sugawara-san?" asks the doctor, glancing over her shoulder.

Breath hitching painfully, Suga lifts his pillow and forces himself to nod. Yamaguchi; that's exactly who he wants to see right now: one of his own, one that he _didn't_ fail. He accepts the handkerchief Daichi offers him, wiping his face as best he can before the doctor steps aside.

Yamaguchi slips in and immediately draws up short. Suga must look awful, and Daichi's a mess too, pale and shaky, eyes badly swollen. Yamaguchi smooths out his expression seamlessly, though, and manages a tender smile as he crosses the room to Suga and leans in to nuzzle his hair. Suga basks in his scent, fresh water and dewy grass and flowers that open at sunrise. He and Tsukishima were together years before Suga and Daichi were, granting them a precedence that leaves them second in command, if one were to rank such things. Certainly Yamaguchi is the only one who can take Suga's hands now and say, softly, "None of this was your fault."

"I invited them to the apartment," says Suga, choking up. "I put them in danger—"

"No," says Yamaguchi. "You could not have predicted this. No one is to blame except for the bastards who hurt you."

Suga clasps a hand to his lower abdomen. He's trembling all over, even as he tries to keep his voice calm. "They meant to get me pregnant. I think they succeeded. Do you believe me?"

"I believe you. You're going to get through this; we're all going to help you. Tsukki's with Nishinoya and Hinata right now. Have you been able to get in touch with Kageyama?"

"Not yet," says Daichi. "I'll keep trying."

"I'll take over. You just focus on each other." He hesitates for a moment. Then, tentatively, he says, "It's not your fault either, Daichi-san. I hope you know that."

Daichi looks up at him with dull, damp eyes. "Isn't it? It was my first task force. I made so many mistakes. Suga and I don't talk about my work because I don't like him hearing about all the grim things I see, but if I had kept him in the loop this time, maybe I could have had him placed under police surveillance."

"They wanted to hurt you," says Suga, touching Daichi's shoulder. For the first time that day, he feels certain, resolved. "They would've found a way no matter what. I'm just glad you're safe."

"Don't say that!" Daichi bellows, startling him and Yamaguchi. "I won't celebrate my own safety at the cost of my packmates! I would do _anything_ to take back what they did to you! I would die for you, Suga!"

Suga isn't scared of Daichi—never will be—but the alpha in him does command a reflexive deference that has Suga and Yamaguchi ducking their heads quickly in servility. Daichi curses at himself, his tone, and reaches out to lift Suga's chin with one hand. Suga stares back with helpless love. Daichi's dark eyes are glimmering with tears. He presses a kiss to his lips, letting himself hesitate there, their mouths brushing.

"I love you," he says.

"I love you too," says Suga.

They're interrupted by a tiny knock at the door.

"Can we come in?" Hinata asks softly.

Nothing could've made Suga get his shit together faster. He swipes his face with the handkerchief again and smiles as broadly as he can. It's shaky, but unbroken, and it seems to hearten Hinata as he bounds across the room and launches himself onto Suga's hospital bed. Suga cradles him in his arms, rocking him lightly back and forth. He closes his eyes to breathe in his scent.

It has changed. Quietly but unmistakably. Where there once was a sort of crisp, laundry-sweetness is now a darker smell, complicated by notes of musk. Suga's grip tightens. Over his hospital gown, Hinata is swimming in one of Asahi's jackets, the collar hitched up around his neck. Suga knows that if he were to look beneath it, he would see the ugly purple imprints of an unfamiliar alpha's teeth. The sick piece of shit bonded Hinata. Laid claim to him and then abandoned him. It's punishable by law under these circumstances, where Hinata will have to undergo agonizing chemical and hormonal treatments to reverse the contract, and that's something Suga can't even think about right now. He kisses Hinata's temple.

Behind him, Noya wavers with uncharacteristic uncertainty, looking especially small bookended there between Tsukishima and Asahi. He's dressed in different clothes than he arrived in, and he seems frozen. It takes Tanaka, alternately the most feral and the most gentle alpha of their pack, to snag Noya's hand and drag him over to Suga. Tanaka had been rabid with rage when he first arrived at the hospital, but the kiss he presses to Suga's brow now is delicate as a whisper.

"Hey, mama," he says. "We love you."

"Hey yourself," says Suga. He holds a hand out to Noya, and Noya takes it. Fuck, his lips and cheeks are bruised as all hell. It's all Suga can do not to snarl in fury. Instead, he smiles again. "How are you doing?"

Noya makes a face, taps at his own throat, and shakes his head.

"Hurts too much to talk?" asks Suga quietly.

Noya nods and swallows with difficulty.

Suga pats the bed. Hinata makes room for him, and Noya clambers against Suga, letting his eyes shut. The three of them take an aching, necessary moment together. Suga pulls them in tight, and they cling back to him, not an ounce of anger or blame or regret in it. By the time they lean back, Asahi has stepped up beside Noya to lay a quivering hand in his soft hair, and Hinata has begun to cry.

"Sugawara-san," he sobs. "I'm so scared."

"We're here with you, Hinata," Suga says.

"I miss him. I _need_ him. Have you managed to get in touch with him yet?"

"Not yet. Daichi's left dozens of messages, so he should get them just as soon as he—"

"Hinata."

Suga pauses with his mouth open mid-sentence, heart pounding.

Kageyama is standing in the doorway. The suitcase he's holding hits the ground with a low thump as he drops it in shock, and that frees his arms to receive Hinata as he leaps from the bed and hurls himself at Kageyama with a sharp, disbelieving cry.

"Kageyama," says Daichi, stunned. "Weren't you flying out from Tokyo this afternoon?"

"I didn't board," Kageyama says, fumbling at Hinata with desperate fervor. "I had a terrible feeling. I caught a flight back here instead. What—what's going on here? _What_ —?"

He brushes Hinata's collar aside and sees the mark there. He clasps a hand over his mouth, but is too slow to catch the sob that escapes him. Hinata holds onto him as the two of them slip to the floor, Kageyama clutching him so hard that his hands tremble and grow white. He balks at Hinata's new smell. Immediately his mouth is on the unmarred side of his lover's throat, kissing and scenting with his own pheromones, orange blossoms with an amber undercurrent of oakmoss. Not to dual-bond him, nothing so selfish, but enough to temporarily drown out the stranger's pungency. It's the most affectionate Suga has ever seen him, and it seems unfairly evoked.

"What happened?" Kageyama demands, voice high and cracking.

Suga holds onto Daichi with one hand and Noya with the other. Inside his own body he feels changed and terrified, and there are no words for that, so he says instead, insufficiently, "I don't even know where to begin."


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so, so much for all of the incredible comments. They mean the world to me, and you have all been unbelievably welcoming as I dip my toes into this genre. As always, I am taking a few creative liberties due to lack of knowledge or just to facilitate certain plot points--please let me know if you find them too obtrusive, and I'll do my best to smooth them out. Hope you are all staying healthy out there. Thank you again.

Asahi and Noya's house—mansion, really—has a gigantic master bedroom that Asahi employs as his sewing room, and that's where Noya stands now, throat sore.

Huge oak tables. Gorgeous bolts of heavy, unpatterned fabric. Wireframe dressmaker's dolls line the far wall like an audience, and whenever Noya brings Asahi meals or mail or coffee here, he lingers to admire the beautiful runway suits and gowns that Asahi toils happily over day after day. Asahi has extraordinary talent, and this room is a testament to that. Noya's vision blurs with tears as he admires his mate's work. He sits down at one of the tables and strokes a sheaf of tulle between his fingertips, savoring its rough, imperfect texture.

It smells like Asahi in here. Freshly laundered clothing, yes, but under that, his natural scent of fresh baking. Noya sometimes imagines the familiar toasted sugar smell as thinly spun glass, like Asahi's heart had been in high school. He's strong now, though. Stronger than Noya himself.

That much is abundantly clear.

 _Guardian Deity._ Noya can believe anyone had ever called him that. Maybe ten years ago, he would've been able to prevent what happened to Suga and Shouyou this afternoon, but it's almost midnight now, and he still hasn't woken up from this fucking nightmare. His jaw is aching. His cheeks and lips are bruised purple. There's a scrape on his inner thigh where one of the men clawed at him for access, and Noya will never forget the feeling of those three foreign fingers inside him, where only Asahi had been before. Asahi cried when he saw it. That's the worst part. Those fuckers made his Asahi cry.

Noya gave his statement to the police in private, and hasn't been able to speak since. It hurts too much physically, and he keeps thinking about how his rapists scolded him. _Little bitch. Mouthy. Your alpha lets you get away with that kind of language?_ Noya knows he is boisterous and blunt; qualities not desired in an omega. Would Asahi be happier with him if he were more docile?

Isn't this a good opportunity to find out?

Asahi's sweet, warm scent drifts into the room. He stands for a long moment in the doorway, then keeps his footsteps loud so he doesn't startle Noya as he approaches him from behind. His lips press against Noya's temple. "Suga wants you in the bath with him," he says. "Will you go?"

Suga could ask Noya to fly to the moon right now, and Noya would do it. He nods and turns.

His lover is so tall, so beautiful. His dark eyes are devastated behind his glasses as he touches his thumb tenderly to Noya's chin, but he manages a smile anyway. God, how _brave_ he has become. "Can I carry you?" he whispers.

After a few beats of hesitation, Noya nods again, and arches up to meet him as he bends down.

He's robust for his size, but Asahi lifts him with no difficulty. Noya wraps his arms around his neck, and Asahi scoops both of Noya's legs against one hip to keep them considerately closed, cradling him as one would a child. Noya closes his eyes and lets himself be held for a long, private moment. Then Asahi turns and takes him down the hall to their gigantic bathroom.

The freestanding cypress soaking tub is huge enough to comfortably hold five. He can hear Suga, Shouyou, and Yamaguchi's voices as they scrub themselves down in the washroom, which is redolent with the smells of soap and omegan pheromones. Asahi sets him down outside the door, kisses Noya whisper-soft on his swollen mouth, and makes himself scarce. He respects that this is not an alpha's space right now. Noya stands in the hall for several painful seconds, watching him leave. His departure is a relief in a way. Noya hates that; hates that someone ruined Asahi's presence for him, however briefly. But Noya wants his packmates, and that instinct trumps everything. He strips quickly in the entrance room, toes his slippers on, and opens the door to the bath.

Steam and familiar scents pour out. Noya gulps back tears. He is home. Suga and Yamaguchi receive him with warm enough greetings, but Shouyou is quiet, and that serves as a reminder as much as the huge bruises on Suga's pretty hipbones. He sits on one of the shower benches and begins lathering up. A second later, Yamaguchi's deft hands are in his hair.

"Take a load off, Nishinoya-san," he says kindly. "Let me know if you need anything. I bet Asahi-san would totally let us drink tea in the tub if we asked really nicely."

Noya huffs a laugh and smiles. Yamaguchi's touch is kind, but without pity. He helps him wash thoroughly before showering him off, then the two of them climb into the tub together. Suga has already urged Shouyou in. Shouyou sits facing away, chin rested on his folded arms, staring contemplatively at the far wall. The bruise on his neck is ugly and purpling, furrowed with teeth marks. It has no right being there on Shouyou's beautiful body.

He slips into the deliciously hot bath beside him and lays his hand on his shoulder. Shouyou startles a little.

"Oh! Noya-san, I didn't hear you!"

That's alarming. Noya hasn't spoken, but he and Yamaguchi weren't quiet as they showered. Shouyou must really be in his own world—a world that must be dark now, and terrifying, and lonely.

Bonded without consent. Noya can't even imagine. To have his blood and body whispering some stranger's name. Shouyou is going to crave a fucking rapist during his next heat unless he can start treatment immediately to expunge his pheromonal imprint. Of course Asahi will pay for the procedures, but they're painful, humiliating ordeals, and Shouyou didn't deserve any of this.

And Suga. _Suga._ Noya would give his life for the chance to reverse the traumas he endured today. He's selfishly glad that he didn't see much of it, but the results are the same, whether or not he was watching: Suga is likely pregnant. Just thinking about it makes Noya's eyes sting with pain, for many complicated reasons.

He and Asahi have been trying for nearly five months now. They haven't told anyone, but there's a smaller room in the house that is slowly filling with clothes, blankets, and toys. Noya has spent his last four heats working carefully with Asahi, panting underneath him instead of casually riding him like usual, marking off his cycles on a calendar that he keeps under his bed with the word _baby?_ scribbled on fertile days in small, hopeful letters. Of course, he's more than ready to give it a rest now, but he hates that this was ruined for him, and there are no words for his fury and disgust over what happened to gorgeous, kind, graceful Suga.

Suga's eyes are swollen as he sits in the steamy water, and he is unsmiling, but he meets Noya's gaze squarely and laces their fingers together. "I love you, Nishinoya," he says.

Noya nods, but it's hard to imagine. He feels like he is disintegrating from the inside out. His words catch behind his teeth and sit there, unspoken.

"You are perfect," Suga tells him. "Okay? _Perfect."_

Noya nods again. He wishes he believed it.

They're mostly quiet in the bath, soaking, trying not to think. Yamaguchi sings for them a little in his lovely voice, and brightens up Shouyou with some strategic comments about Kageyama: "He's closing in on an Olympic serving speed record, isn't he? I think I saw his picture on a bag of granola the other day."

"Ha, yeah, that was him," says Shouyou, smiling a little. "I went with him to the shoot. He made one of the photographers cry because he 'grimaced' at her, but it was just his face."

Suga laughs aloud. It's not a huge sound, but it's an earnest one, and it makes the tightness in Noya's chest unravel a bit. "Is he staying here, then?" Suga asks.

"Y-yeah. He got permission from his sponsors to stick around for a while. Special circumstances and all."

"Even though you two aren't bonded?" says Yamaguchi, surprised.

"I think they just assumed, and he didn't correct them."

"Well, everyone in the volleyball world saw The Kiss, it's true," says Suga, referencing a televised match earlier that year that culminated in an epic rally. Afterward, Shouyou jumped over the barricade to hurl himself into Kageyama's arms. Shouyou still plays too, of course, on an excellent local team with a schedule that allows for his forays into volunteer coaching and cycling. They're turning into an athletic power couple—all without technically being a couple. It makes Noya smile. Leave it to his kouhai to defy the odds.

"I don't want him to leave," Shouyou blurts. "I mean, especially not now, but—at all. I miss having him around. I'm—lonely."

That's a big thing for bright, vivacious Shouyou to admit. Noya lays a hand on his shoulder, and Suga's scent fills the room; mild gardenia and warm, satiny plum.

"We will always be here for you," Suga says.

Shouyou shakes his head. "You can't know that for sure."

"I can, though. We're here with you, Hinata. And we're all going to get through this." 

If Suga can say that, there's no arguing with it. Noya scoots closer in the bath, and Suga cups one hand to his cheek, looking around at the three of them with infinite love. And when Suga's eyes grow shiny with tears, it's Yamaguchi who urges them all upright.

"Let's dry off. I think the boys provided dinner."

He's right. They rinse one more time and dress—each of them had a pile of their comfiest pajamas waiting for them on a shelf in the washroom; clearly someone made the rounds to their houses and apartments while they were bathing—and then they join their loved ones in the enormous kitchen, which smells heavenly. Ryuu has cooked up a storm: ginger pork, miso, oyakodon, beef bowls. Asahi contributed the omurice, though. Noya can tell by the giant ketchup heart on the meal intended for him. He receives a gentle kiss on the cheek from Asahi as he clambers onto one of the barstools.

Suga needs help getting settled on the high seat, though. Daichi and Asahi assist him, each holding one of his shaky, white-knuckled fists, and Suga clenches his teeth and shifts around until he finds a suitable position. When he finally gets comfortable, he smiles like nothing is wrong, even though everyone is watching him. He is the most graceful person in the entire world, thinks Noya.

"Itadakimasu," Suga says, clasping his hands softly together.

"Itadakimasu," they echo back, Noya dipping his head instead of chiming in.

The food helps. Doesn't solve all their problems, but their empty stomachs fill, and Ryuu and Yamaguchi carry the conversation with enough sports and work discussion that Asahi, Kageyama, and Tsukishima are able to pitch in a little. There's sake, but nobody drinks it. Noya observes the hand Daichi keeps on Suga's back, not moving once during the course of their meal.

They have to talk about it eventually, though, and it's Asahi who inadvertently broaches the subject: "Will tea help your throat, love?" he murmurs to Noya, accidentally speaking into a lull in conversation. It could not have been more audible. He turns red immediately, and so does Noya, staring down at his plate. He hadn't been able to eat much, both because of his aching throat and lack of appetite. He wants to disappear.

"I'll make some," says Ryuu, standing. God bless him. He knows their house well enough to go directly to the cupboard that contains the mugs, and something about that gives Noya a pang; gratitude or bittersweetness or a little of both. Ryuu has yet to bond with anyone, and Noya's grateful for that: he likes this group they have, this insular world where they all went to Nationals together, and he selfishly wants Ryuu all to himself, even though someday he knows he's going to have to let him go.

For now, though, Ryuu draws Noya's favorite cup off the shelf and fills the kettle. He plays his fingers affectionately across Noya's back as he sits back down at the kitchen island, which they're all crammed around.

"What happens now?" he asks, voice calm.

Long, painful silence. Then Suga says, with forced enthusiasm, "I might not be pregnant. Right?"

"That's right," says Daichi firmly. "We trust that you know your own body, but—"

"I'm taking the contraceptive pills. The doctor says they're seventy-five percent effective."

"Those are good odds," says Ryuu. "Suga-san—Noya-san, Hinata—we all know how inadequate 'I'm sorry' is, but it has to be said. We can't even fucking imagine what you went through. If there is anything we can do, absolutely anything in the goddamn world, you have to tell us."

"Just be here like this," says Shouyou, tiny and strained. "Can you do that? Stick around for a bit?"

"Of course we can," Asahi says. "Everyone is welcome here for as long as you like. We have guest bedrooms, or we can use the living room as a communal space."

"I think I'd like to do that, if everyone is amenable," says Suga.

"Haven't made a good nest in a while," says Yamaguchi, with tasteful cheer. "I bet we could throw together an awesome one with those big sofas."

"No one told me I was gonna be moving furniture tonight," Ryuu groans.

"We'll all help," Suga offers.

"No. You're not lifting a single finger," says Daichi. He nuzzles against Suga's throat, the smell of pine resin rising above the kitchen's homey scents of fresh food and bathwater. Suga allows the attention, eyes closed. When he opens them again, they're damp.

"The footage," he says. "The videos they took."

There's a sharp noise as Ryuu bangs his knee on the underside of the counter, and Yamaguchi's smile drops off immediately. "There's _video?"_ he demands.

Noya forgot it's the first time most of them are hearing about it. Tsukishima's subtle, clean scent trickles free, a reflexive attempt toward placation, but Kageyama's _explodes_ , and it smells like fire. He grabs Shouyou's arm and drags him upright, making him yelp in surprise. "No!" Kageyama growls, hurling his arms around Shouyou. He squeezes him so hard that his hands shake. "How _dare_ they! My pack—my _mate—_ "

As far as Noya knows, he's using the word loosely, but Kageyama and Shouyou have been bonded in everything but practice since they were sixteen years old. Noya finds himself shying back against Asahi. Yamaguchi ducks too, making himself small. Kageyama has always lacked the control and experience of the senior alphas, his pheromones pouring out in great, caustic waves. Ryuu stands up to challenge him down, but Daichi reaches him first, needing nothing more than one level, unflinching look to make him lower his head in deference and release his grip on Shouyou just enough to allow him to wriggle around.

"Kageyama," Shouyou says, gripping his cheeks firmly. "Kageyama. _Tobio_."

Kageyama comes back slowly, panting. His pupils are dilated. He focuses on Shouyou, hands on his small waist until his breathing is finally under control again. When the adrenaline leaves him, his face crumples, and his knees begin to fail him.

"Oh, Kageyama," says Suga tenderly, and Daichi stabilizes Kageyama, helping him sit down on the couch.

The others follow, Asahi holding onto Noya with one of his hands and offering Suga his other. Suga leans on him with his full weight, but Asahi doesn't stagger against it; he's that strong and sturdy. Noya loves him so much. He crawls into his lap once he's settled, mouth against his gorgeous, stubbled jawline, and Asahi kisses his hair, still soft from showering.

The couch is an extravagant four-piece sectional speckled with throw pillows—more than enough room for all of them. It was a housewarming present from a famous client, and though Asahi and Noya make fun of it often, its opulence and dramatic chaise end, they actually love it. They were always grateful to have a piece of furniture that would host their entire pack, and Noya knows that if Chikara, Hisashi, and Kazuhita were here, it could hold them, too.

How long has it been since so many of them were here together like this? Noya stares around the room with a mixture of warmth, disbelief, and sadness. Did it really take a trauma so harrowing to unite them?

 _No,_ he tells himself sternly. _None of that kind of thinking_. They're here now, and that's what counts. This is the family he can always call upon.

"Where are your closets?" asks Yamaguchi.

Asahi directs him to the appropriate room, and he, Tsukishima, and Ryuu return with armloads of blankets. They set to work piecing together a refuge of sorts, but only Yamaguchi has the instincts for it, and Shouyou eventually steps in, smiling a little. "You're bad at his," he tells the alphas, arranging the cushions expertly.

"Yeah, well, there was no nesting class in university," says Ryuu.

"You didn't go to university," says Tsukishima.

"Point still stands."

Noya joins in, too. He's not great at this, but Yamaguchi and Shouyou correct his pillows when he places them wrong, and soon they've got a gorgeous shelter built up between the arms of the sectional. Before any of them get settled, they help Suga get comfortable. He gets the center, between Daichi and Shouyou. Daichi secures him with the softest cushions, the best blankets. Only after he is cozy do the others pile in, and all of them take their tea together, and then Noya arranges himself between Asahi and Ryuu, fetched up against his oldest friend's chest.

"Okay?" Ryuu asks him quietly, squeezing him close.

Eyes shut, Noya nods.

"I love you, man. You're my guy. Talk to me when you're ready."

Noya can't promise that. His throat has started to feel a little better, but his inability to talk remains, tangible as a mouth full of rocks. He rests his head at the crook of Ryuu's neck and relishes the feeling of Asahi at his back, loving and unmoving. There is no territorialism between them, and it's been a long, long time since Noya felt such safety.

He doesn't know when he falls asleep, but when he wakes up hours later, his pack's scents are gorgeously blended into a smooth, fragrant ocean, and he's crying.

Asahi had been there with Daichi when he received the videos. Noya doesn't know what was filmed—probably Suga, mostly, and a little bit of Shouyou—but Asahi arrived with Daichi on scene just moments before the police did. Noya was vomiting into the sink. Mostly just spit and precome. He washed the evidence down the drain before anyone could document it; the same way, Noya learned later, that Suga went directly to the shower to try and clean himself out. He doesn't know if it was a matter of self-preservation or pride or both. Probably both. Noya remembers collapsing in the kitchen and trying to stand, but his legs just wouldn't cooperate with him.

Just like his body is fighting him now. He's trying to shut up, trying not to wake up his whole damn pack, but he can't get his tears under control. He isn't sobbing aloud, but he's choking for breath. Quivering. Already Asahi has pulled him into his arms, and Noya can feel his mate's tears, too. And everyone else is listening.

"Shh," Asahi whispers. "I've got you, Noya. We're here for you."

Noya gasps and trembles. This is bullshit. He wasn't even bonded, wasn't forced to complete sex, and yet he's weak enough to be crying about it. He buries his face into Asahi's chest.

"That's good, that's very good," says Asahi. "Let it out."

When his tears have finally wound down enough that he can focus, he smells Suga, fruity and floral. And beneath that, something different. Something sweeter, milkier, that Noya knows only his nose is sharp enough to already detect.

 _Holy shit,_ he thinks. _They really got him pregnant_.

But he doesn't say anything. Can't say anything. He shakes, and Asahi and Ryuu hold him, and behind him, he feels the power and fury and protection of his entire pack.

"We're going to pay them back," says Daichi into the silence. "They're not going to walk away from what they did to you."

And when Daichi says it, it's a promise.


End file.
